


Learning by Touch

by Capriccio



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Dubious Consent, M/M, Mind Control, Simpleton!Arthur, Spells & Enchantments
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-05
Updated: 2012-10-05
Packaged: 2017-11-15 16:23:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 802
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/529235
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Capriccio/pseuds/Capriccio
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Arthur might be a simpleton, but he’s not stupid. He sees the look in Merlin's eyes: soft and fond and sad, like he wants something he can't have. (Set during 4x12.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Learning by Touch

**Author's Note:**

> Written for summerpornathon's 2012 fuck-or-die challenge. Edited from the original, with many thanks to significantowl for the title and for help with the editing process. Also [available here on LJ](http://capricornucopia.livejournal.com/11378.html).

Arthur washes the soup bowls carefully, making sure that they are clean inside and out. He doesn’t want to disappoint Merlin. Rinsing the pot is next—Arthur is glad that he remembers—but his thoughts are interrupted when he hears voices coming from the other side of the camp.

“Haven’t had me a woman in _ages_ ,” a voice says plaintively.

( _Smugglers_ , Merlin calls them. The word makes Arthur’s shoulders hunch up, but he’s not sure why. They’ve been very nice in letting them travel with the caravan.)

“Haven’t had a woman ever, you mean,” a rough voice responds, and there’s a burst of harsh laughter among the trees.

“I’m going to _die_ if someone doesn’t touch my cock soon,” the plaintive one continues.

“Nothing wrong with your hand from what I can see,” the rough one says, snorting.

The voices fade into the night, but not from Arthur’s thoughts. He looks down at his cock and tries to remember the last time someone touched it. He can’t remember much, his memory is so hazy, but maybe Merlin knows. Merlin knows everything.

Arthur finishes rinsing the pot and makes his way back to the fire and back to Merlin, where it is warm. Merlin smiles at him when he returns, and Arthur gets so lost in Merlin’s smile, he forgets to ask about the smugglers.

Merlin tells him a story before bed about a great dragon that can fly, filling the sky with fire, and a man who sits astride it and rides the wind. Arthur listens to the rise and fall of Merlin’s voice, and watches the sweep of his fingers as he paints the story with his hands.

They settle on the ground to sleep, and Arthur shifts as close to Merlin as he can without being annoying. Arthur feels safe when Merlin is around: Merlin is kind and strong and smart, all the things that Arthur wants to be.

~

Arthur wakes up later when the stars are brighter and the fire is colder. He looks over as Merlin murmurs and rolls closer to him, still asleep. Arthur carefully moves toward Merlin's warmth, and that’s when he notices Merlin’s cock straining against his breeches, hard against Arthur’s hip. Arthur frowns, remembering what the smuggler said. He pokes Merlin awake to see if he’s dying.

“Arthur?” Merlin says, his voice scratchy. He gives Arthur a sleepy smile—Arthur feels warm all over again—and then his expression changes to one of worry. He tries to move away, but Arthur doesn’t want that, so he rolls over top of him to make sure Merlin doesn’t leave.

“I don’t want you to die,” Arthur tells Merlin.

“What?” Merlin asks, sounding confused. His face is flushed and Arthur can feel his heart beating quickly underneath him. Arthur thinks he must be just in time to save Merlin.

“The smugglers. They said you can die if you don’t have your cock touched for a while,” Arthur says, reaching for the laces on Merlin’s breeches. He wonders why he has to do the explaining this time.

“Arthur, no, that’s not what they meant,” Merlin says. He tries to push Arthur’s hand away.

Arthur might be a simpleton, but he’s not stupid. He sees the look in Merlin's eyes: soft and fond and sad, like he wants something he can't have.

“I want to,” Arthur says. He doesn’t see a reason to lie.

Merlin goes very still, looking up at him. “Arthur,” he says, his voice quiet. He doesn’t push Arthur’s hand away this time.

Arthur unlaces Merlin’s breeches to take out his cock, thick and hot in his hand. Arthur skims his fingers along it, learning its shape. He strokes Merlin carefully, remembering how he likes it himself, a dim memory of his own hand on him in the early morning. It falls naturally to him, like the way he remembers how to hold a sword, although he doesn’t remember where or how he learned it.

He wraps his hand around Merlin’s cock, speeding up when Merlin starts arching underneath him, his breath coming in sharp gasps. Arthur smears his thumb along the head when it starts to bead, remembering how good it feels when he does that. Arthur grunts a little, feeling his own cock rise and tighten. He wonders if maybe Merlin is contagious, and now he could die too, but Merlin is here, Merlin will take care of him, always, and Arthur will do the same because he promised Merlin that he would do better.

When Merlin comes, he says _Arthur_ in a voice that almost hurts to hear. But as Arthur presses close, he’s glad to feel Merlin's heartbeat steady against him.

“Can I?” Merlin asks after a moment, gently resting his hand in front of Arthur’s breeches.

“Please,” Arthur says. “Thank you.”


End file.
